


"My Own 'Spidey Sense' Was Tingling"

by baloobird



Series: The New Normal [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anti-Starker, Chronic Illness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Medical Procedures, Multiple Sclerosis, Neurological Disorders, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Has MS, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Happy Hogan, Protective Tony Stark, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, but not really, infinity war and endgame don't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baloobird/pseuds/baloobird
Summary: It has been a year since Peter Parker was diagnosed with Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis and he—like everyone with this disease—has to get an MRI scan done every year so the doctors can monitor his condition.The scan itself is tedious but he’s used to it, it’s not his first one by any means. Peter knows what to expect, how loud it’ll be, how long it takes.But this is the first scan where he’ll be completely by himself.(Might be best to read the first story before this one)
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The New Normal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081250
Comments: 33
Kudos: 144





	"My Own 'Spidey Sense' Was Tingling"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys, I decided to add on to this universe! I hope you enjoy 💜
> 
> It might be best to read the first story before this one so you can have a better understanding of Peter's situation but for anyone who doesn't know: 
> 
> Peter has Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis, a chronic illness that attacks your nervous system and every year, you have to go through an MRI scan so the doctors can monitor the disease's progression.
> 
> Like with my first story, this is based on first-hand experience by the MRI I had this year except I didn't have a Happy...I wish I had a Happy 😭 
> 
> A huge thank you to my friend [joyful_soul_collector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyful_soul_collector/pseuds/joyful_soul_collector) for beta-reading this for me, thank you so much!! 💜

Peter’s fingers are shaking with fear as he trudges down the steps of Midtown Tech, not because of a test he thinks he flunked, or a run-in with bullies.

But because today is his first annual MRI scan since he was diagnosed with Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis.

Despite it being a year since he was diagnosed, he remembers it as if it were yesterday. He can still feel the horror striking down to the bone, the uncertainty of his future, and most importantly,  _ what happens next? _

Now, he feels…well, not much different, in all honesty. He still takes a shot three times a week for his treatment and has occasional symptoms such as numbness or prickly sensations. 

But other than those annoyances, he feels like a normal kid. He hasn’t had any more experiences with double vision, weird throbs in his head, or other relapses that put his mind into a tailspin.

With that being said, however, he has to get an MRI scan every year to monitor the disease’s progression. Despite feeling normal, his illness could be getting worse and he wouldn’t have a clue.

But that’s not what he’s so scared about.

The scan itself is tedious but he’s used to it, it’s not his first one by any means. Peter knows what to expect, how loud it’ll be, how long it takes.

But this is the first scan where he’ll be completely by himself.

May is working from now until midnight and just yesterday, his father figure dropped a bombshell about a surprise Avengers meeting at one of their safe houses.

-

"You gonna be okay going by yourself?" Tony asked, sitting in a chair directly across from his kid on the other side of the worktable.

Panic filled the seventeen-year-old instantly. He hurriedly cleared his throat in an attempt to keep it casual. "Yeah," he said, "I mean I'm normally by myself anyway so uh, yeah, it's fine."

As his knee started bouncing under the table, Peter found himself gripping his screwdriver so tightly that he wondered if he would accidentally bend it. He kept staring at that tool, using it to distract himself from his anxiety.

"Yeah, but up until this point, someone’s always been there in the waiting room," his hero said, gently grabbing the tyke's free hand and giving it a comforting squeeze, "If you’d rather one of us be there, we could postpone it, Bruce won't mind—"

"No, um, it's-it's fine, I'll be fine. The thing's only gonna take like an hour anyway, right?"

"Uh, Pete?" Tony gave his kid's hand another squeeze. "You're getting  _ two _ MRIs done, remember?"

_ "Huh?" _ Peter's eyes widened, his chest beating so fast that it could explode like a ticking time bomb. "I-I-I don't remember two, why  _ two?" _

"Bruce wants to get your neck and spine looked at in addition to your brain. Since this disease can affect your spine too, he just wants to cover all his bases."

Tony gave him a sympathetic expression, making shame filter through his protege. After giving his hand another squeeze, the man said, "That's why you need to get this done, kiddo, Bruce just wants to make sure everything is going like it’s s’posed to, okay?"

Peter simply nodded his head. "Okay."

“Besides, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“How?”

“Well, for starters,” Tony said with a smile, “You haven’t had a relapse since you started treatment, that’s a good sign.”

Peter shrugged, trying not to get his hopes up. “Yeah, true—”

_ “And _ you’ve been fantastic at keeping up with your shots.”

“I’m not like amazing at it or anything, I’ve missed a few—”

“But in the year that you’ve been taking them, you’ve only missed a  _ few.” _ Tony’s thumb brushed the back of the tyke’s hand, attempting to soothe him. “Give yourself some credit, bud, you’ve handled this like a champ, which is why I have no doubt that we won’t see anything out of the ordinary on those scans.”

A ghost of a smile escaped the teenager, warmth filtering through him as he tightened his grip on his father figure’s hand. “Thanks. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about it.”

"No, I get it. If you’re anything like me, your mind is probably going through all the worst-case scenarios your brain can possibly come up with.”

“We’re too much alike,” Peter said with a snort, “But yeah, anxiety’s a bitch.”

“Amen to that. You don't have to do this by yourself, y’know, Bruce can make an appointment for next week, it’s not a big deal."

Said kid thought long and hard about the dilemma.

He wants to postpone it. He doesn’t want to do this alone. Shit, doing these scans with a loved one in the waiting room is already anxiety-inducing enough.

But it’s just a scan, he told himself, he’s going to be alone anyway, he might as well do it.

After all, he’s seventeen, he’s not a little kid anymore. He doesn’t need Iron Man or his “Auntie” May holding his hand every time he gets scared.

He’s Spider-Man, for crying out loud, if Spider-Man can jump off a twenty-story building and land on his feet then Peter Parker can sit—or  _ lay, _ in this case—through a routine scan by himself.

"No, no I'll be fine,” he concluded, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt, “I mean, I'm gonna be dreading it whatever day I get it done so might as well get it over with, right?"

-

Peter is thinking about that conversation as he gets in the car, barely noticing Happy at the wheel when saying pleasantries.

Boy, does he regret not postponing it.

He doesn’t want to do this.

He doesn’t want to be alone.

Bruce won’t even be in medbay with him, Peter will be  _ alone, _ alone with people he doesn’t know while he lays in a machine where he can’t even scratch his nose.

And no one will be waiting for him when he gets out.

There Peter sits, fidgeting with his still trembling fingers while looking out the backseat window, using the scenic view of the city as a distraction.

Which doesn’t work but it was worth a shot, right?

_ Everything’s gonna be fine. _

_ I’m literally just gonna be laying there, it’s not exactly exciting stuff— _

“Cat got your tongue there, kid?”

Peter is snapped out of his stupor, his head turning to the rearview mirror to see his chauffeur giving him a worried expression. “It’s Friday and you look like you just saw a dead puppy,” the older man says, “Everything okay back there?”

The teen hurriedly nods his head, tucking his hands under his thighs to hide the shaking. “Yeah…yeah, sorry, I’m just uh, nervous, I guess.”

“‘Bout what?”

The spider-boy’s eyes squint in confusion. “Mr. Stark didn’t tell you?”

Happy lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah, but I wanted to hear it from  _ you. _ The appointment’s at four, right?”

Again, Peter nods his head. “I know once I like, get into the thing, I’ll be fine, it’s just um, the waiting for it that I hate. Well, that and I know I’m gonna be tired afterwards and I won’t wanna do anything.”

“It’s the weekend, you’re not supposed to do anything anyway.” Happy gives the other a half-smile but his face falls at seeing the kid’s distraught expression. “Look, kid, everything’s gonna be fine, no need to worry yourself into an early grave.”

“Easier said than done,” the young hero mutters. 

They arrive at Avengers Towers with way too much time to spare. After a grumbling “Thanks”, Peter gets out of the car and enters the building, walking ever so slowly to the elevator that will take him to medbay.

Soon, he finds himself staring down the doors of said wing, stalling for as long as he can until four o’clock.

_ Maybe I can just fake sick or something, would they believe me if I called and said there was this after-school thing that I  _ absolutely _ couldn’t miss— _

The genius’s thoughts come to an abrupt stop as the doors open for him. A nurse starts to walk by him but she holds the door open as a courtesy, probably thinking that he was about to walk in.

_ Shit. _

_ Welp, no turning back. _

Peter says an awkward “Thank you” as he walks by. In no time at all, another nurse is leading him to some dressing room and instructing him to change into a hospital gown, keeping his boxers and socks on, to his relief.

And now he waits.

_ I wonder how much of my life has been wasted waiting on doctors. _

He scrolls on his phone for the next whopping half-hour, trying and failing to use funny memes as a distraction before that same nurse finally walks in. He then gives Peter an injection of some solution that gives them a clearer picture, called a “contrast”, he said.

Same old, same old.

After that, the teenager is led to the machine itself, big enough to depict a single-person rocket but also so,  _ so _ tiny on the inside.

Peter’s skin immediately prickles with goosebumps in both anxiety and the chill in the air. 

_ Why must doctors’ offices always be cold? _

_ At least I have my socks on. _

He is then laid onto a pillow and one of the conductors of the procedure puts a pair of headphones over the hero’s ears to block out the sounds. Said kid’s face scrunches in confusion.

_ Dr. Banner always plays music, why is there no music? _

Before he can work up the courage to ask, the doctors give him a joystick to call for help if needed, along with the usual spiel about what to expect. Then, the bed-cot  _ thing _ he’s laying on is wheeled into the machine.

For the next hour, Peter can’t hear anything except whirrs, beeps, and clicks.

Despite the headphones and earplugs, the spiderling’s enhanced hearing picks up on everything loud and clear, much to his annoyance.

The hour is spent with this cot in periodic motion. The jerks are sometimes so unexpected that he almost feels his head move.

And he’ll be damned if he has to go through this a second time in a row.

On top of that, he’s not getting  _ anything _ from the doctor that Bruce left in charge. When Dr. Banner was here, he’d give Peter a heads up about an upcoming noise, how long it’ll take, and if the seat will move.

Along with some fucking music.

It’s surprising how much the teen misses having music; he never realized that the familiar beats provided a needed comfort, kept him grounded so his mind doesn’t drift so much to the here and now.

Even with someone talking in his ear, it’s a sign of reassurance, one that the boy never realized how much he relies on. He’s now at the point where he’s  _ craving _ a welcoming, calming voice just to let him know he’s not alone.

With this guy, however, Peter is simply left in limbo.

_ I’m so telling Dr. Banner about this. _

His nose itches.

His right leg throbs around his calf muscle.

His left hand cramps up while in a death grip around that joystick.

Peter knows he can squeeze the joystick, that’s why it’s there, for him to take a minute reprieve so he can stretch or scratch his nose.

But he’s too damn stubborn for that.

_ If I stop then the whole machine stops and then it’ll take longer to finish and who wants that? _

_ And then I’m gonna come off looking like a wuss who can’t sit through a “wittle” scan. _

His hospital gown brushes against the area on his stomach where he took his shot that morning and he mindlessly scratches the irritation, soon forcing himself to stop so he doesn’t worsen the injection site.

Despite all this, Peter fights through it without giving in for a break, sighing relievedly when his seat finally moves out of the machine completely, signaling that the MRI is complete.

_ One down, one to go. _

He keeps still while the professionals take off his headgear, with the doctor in charge trying to sound encouraging by saying, “That wasn’t all that bad, huh?”

Peter shoots the guy a death glare.

_ This is literally the first time you talked to me since you put me in this thing and  _ now _ you’re gonna be friendly? _

_ Fuck you, lemme web you in this thing with no music, let’s see how you like it. _

The hero chooses not to comment as he’s led to a different room with another MRI, this one for his neck and spine. He lays down once again and the nurses do the same as before, complete with more headphones.

At least this time, whoever is in charge puts on some music.

He’s then moved into the machine for the second time in less than ten minutes. This MRI is smaller than the first one, he notices, more cramped, leaving him almost no room to put his hands except on his stomach while trying his best to avoid the skin irritation.

But what this facility lacks in space, they make up for by having a decent doctor this time. Not only did she put on music but she’s actually talking to him, letting him know about a noise that’s particularly loud or if his seat will be moved in a weird pattern.

That voice.

It’s no voice in particular, Peter doesn’t know this person from Adam, but just the fact that there is a _second_ _voice_ in the room relieves him of some anxiety.

Not all, of course, but just enough to where this round will be okay.

It’ll pass by in no time.

-

Getting two MRIs done in one day took a total of two and a half hours.

Peter yawns for the third—or fourth?—time in the five minutes of getting redressed, the only thing on his mind is his comfy bed at the tower.

One would never guess that a procedure where someone is laying down would take a lot out of them, but the exhaustion sneaks up on the person. Hours of having to lay stock still in concentration becomes a silent energy killer.

No checkout is required so the teen grabs his backpack from one of the medbay lockers and sees himself out, rubbing his eyes with sleep.

He opens the double doors with every intention to race to the closest elevator but a familiar voice from the seemingly empty waiting room stops him in his tracks.

“I told you, postpone everything till tomorrow, I can’t get to it today.”

Peter’s eyebrows narrow in confusion as he scans the room, his eyes landing on a certain chauffeur who dropped him off just a few hours before.

“Happy?” the spiderling says but said man doesn’t hear him since he’s still on the phone.

“Why? You’re really asking me  _ why?” _ Happy asks, his face scrunching in annoyance at whoever’s on the other line, “There’s other shit I gotta do, I have a life too, y’know. You keeping a diary or something?” He pauses for a moment, letting the other person talk before he continues. “Frank, don’t get your panties in a wad, all of that shit isn’t even due for another two weeks. Me taking a night off won’t kill anybody.”

A tired smile spreads across the teen’s face as the realization hits.

_ Happy stayed for me. _

_ He literally took time off work just to wait for me. _

_ How’d he know? _

Peter walks the few steps closer to the older man, keeping quiet as he continues his phone call. Once Happy catches sight of the kid, he gives him a half-smile, the expression falling as he turns his attention back to the phone. “Hey, Frankie, I gotta go—” He’s briefly cut off by the guy on the other end of the line, speaking after a few seconds.  _ “I’m _ the head of security here, don’t tell me when I should take time off.”

Happy ends the call before the other person can answer and stands up from his chair, turning to the hero. He then says, almost in a stutter as if he’s trying to defend himself, “Look, kid, I was just in the neighborhood—”

Said teenager drops his backpack and cuts him off with a hug, getting an unexpected grunt in return. “Thank you,” the spider-boy whispers, tightening his grip.

His grin only gets bigger as he feels a pair of arms wrap around his back in a warm embrace, almost protective in a way that Peter didn’t know he needed.

“No sweat,” Happy says, his voice much softer than during that phone call, “Didn’t have much going on today anyway.”

“Didn’t sound like it,” the genius says with a snort.

“Frankie’s known for making mountains out of molehills, don’t pay him any mind.”

Peter looks up at the older man. “Me with Mr. Stark, to be honest.”

Happy snickers in response, his expression soon turning solemn. “So, how’d it go, everything okay?”

The spider-kid tilts his head to rest back against his bodyguard’s chest, a yawn escaping him as he nods his head. “Fine. Not gonna know anything until Dr. Banner looks at the scans, he wants to look at it before he tells me anything.” He then says, “Right now, I just wanna go to sleep.”

“Want me to come with you, want some company?”

_ Oh my God, I could cry. _

Again, Peter nods his head against the driver’s chest. “Please?”

“Lead the way, kid.”

Another yawn escapes the spiderling as he lets go of their grip and picks up his backpack. An uncontrollable smile forms when he feels Happy softly gripping the back of his neck, that protective warmth once again filling him from head to toe. 

Once in the elevator, Peter leans into the other’s side, on the verge of falling asleep with Happy being used as a makeshift pillow. “Did Mr. Stark put you up to this?”

“Mr. Stark doesn’t even know I’m playing ‘hooky’ right now.” The older man gives his charge a smirk.  _ “Super _ excited to hear that later,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll vouch for ya, how ‘bout that—” The teenager cuts himself off with another yawn, his head settling more into the crook of his bodyguard’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he mumbles, repeating himself from earlier, “How’d you know I needed this?”

Happy lightly wraps his arm around the child’s shoulders, giving him more room to rest his head. “Let’s just say my own ‘spidey sense’ was tingling.”

“Well, it worked,” Peter says, so out of it that he doesn’t realize the absurdity of that statement, “Keep using it.”

“Trust me, kid. I’ll never stop.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'm also on tumblr [@baloobird](https://baloobird.tumblr.com/)


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